Simon, 2004 - 2010

Our precious little sweet Simon died on Tuesday.
We had to put him down, after a flash-flood of g/i and pancreatic problems made him very sick very fast, and several rounds of testing and supported care (hospitalization for iv fluids, nutrients, meds) and ultrasound results yielded several significant problems, but no clear answers on diagnosis or prognosis. We just didn't have the resources (nor did we think it was fair to him) to keep keep keep searching for answers through invasive surgeries and significant recovery periods. So we made the awful horrible painful decision to let him go.

I think it was the worst day of my adult life. Maybe my whole life.

I think before this happened, I thought I knew what it would feel like to lose him. I mean, we all know that we will probably outlive our dogs, right? And I have said good-bye to pets before (most significantly, my childhood pup Domino, who died when I was in college). But this is the first time, for both Mark and me, that the weight of the decision rested on our shoulders. Because he was our baby. A pet that we loved not just as a childhood playmate, but as only a parent can love a creature so dependent on us. And it turns out I could not have been more wrong in assuming I would know how that would feel. It was so much worse. So, so, so much worse.

I have spent the last two days walking around in a fog. Nothing in my new Simonless reality seems normal, but at the same time... everything else is normal. Anneliese still has to be nursed. Nathan still has to practice peeing on the potty. Laundry still has to be washed. Kids still need to be picked up from school and brought to appointments. Weekend plans for a houseful of guests still have to be finalized. Mark's music for church Sunday morning still has to be learned. The groceries scattered in the kitchen from when I rushed to the vet after shopping still have to be put away.

I spent most of Tuesday afternoon just wanting to yell at the world to please stop turning, everybody just stop. For just a minute. I need to get my head together. But... the world doesn't stop. So I clung to anything that would distract me, anything that would let me be in denial for just a few hours more, clung to messages from the friends who knew that's exactly what I needed in that moment... and I went through the motions of my life. In a fog.

We got a flood (seriously, a flood) of emails and phone calls and texts from people who wanted updates on Simon, or wanted to let us know they were praying for us, or that they knew how much we loved him. These messages all made me cry and I just couldn't make myself reply to everyone. I didn't want to talk about him, or rehash our painful decision, or relive that agony. But know this: all those messages made us feel loved. Very, very loved.

Our vet estimated (based on his human age and his weight) that Simon was about 35 in human terms. Not a puppy, not a senior. Way way too young to have to say good-bye.

Yesterday afternoon, I was thinking through some of my favorite Simon memories, and it turned into a list. Here are 35 happy things we remember about Simon -- one for every "doggie year" of his life:

1. Napping in the car with Nathan on road trips. 2. His baby teeth flying all over the den when Bowden pulled toys out of his mouth -- seriously we found teeth for days after that. 3. Meeting my mom's dog Mackie when they came to help us paint our new house, and humping her all weekend (Mackie, not my mom, duh). 4. His SuperSimon dog tag that never failed to get compliments. 5. Eating the sheetrock in our laundry room -- I kind of never want to fix it now. 6. The countless number of times he raced and busted out our front door, whether or not it was latched, whether or not it was locked. 7. His first Christmas when he got a candy cane rawhide treat stuck on his paw, and he ate it off. 8. Jumping into the dishwasher to find food scraps. 9. Defending his turf when another dog came in the yard while he and Nathan were playing together outside. 10. Snoozing at my feet (and on my feet) while I worked. 11. Curling up with Nathan on the bed in the then-study and both of them snoring the morning away. 12. His precious feet. 13. Backpacking with Daddy a few weeks ago. 14. Jumping up on the bed after Mark left for work in the mornings and getting some good snuggles in before the time came to start the day. 15. Sitting square on Mark's chest on the couch. That's right -- bum on chest. 16. Camping with Mark and Bowden and me, so exhausted and wedged between our sleeping bags for the night. 17. Licking my feet while we watched tv in the evenings (hey, one man's gross is another's awesome). 18. Swimming in the lake and being nervous enough to grip his legs around me like a human baby would... until I pulled us both into a raft to relax. 19. Digging like crazy in the sand at Cape Hatteras, sending it flying everywhere. 20. Roaming free in Umstead Park on hikes with Mark -- except when they needed to cross a creek on a log, when he was so scared that Mark had to carry him across. 21. Sitting on the front porch waiting for us to come home. 22. Jumping on mom's desk when he was a puppy, and in her tub, and snacking on her toiletries. 23. Riding along in our neighbor's kayak while they accompanied me on training swims for St. Croix. 24. Racing around my mom's five acres of land with all her dogs -- for Simon, it was just a big dog park. 25. Sleeping flat on his back with his legs up in the air. 26. Putting his front paws up on the counters after meals to give us a head start on cleaning the dishes. 27. His refusal to give up the old ratty stinky dog bed that he loved from puppyhood, and sleeping in it even when he didn't fit inside anymore. 28. Running berserk at our Raleigh dog park, in circles and circles and circles. 29. Following Bowden around like the lovesick puppy he was, even before she learned to love him back. 30. Following Nathan and enjoying that he always loved him back. 31. Crying so loudly when he got his nails trimmed that people at PetSmart thought we were torturing him.32. Napping on the air conditioning vent in Nathans room, not wanting to leave even when it was Nathan's turn for a nap instead. 33. Jumping directly into our laps when he thought we might be leaving him somewhere, without any regard to the fact that he was too big to be a lap dog. 34. Carrying his favorite blanket (actually a huge comforter) backwards up the stairs, so he could sit comfortably at the top (his favorite place) and keep an eye on everything going on in the house. 35. The many afternoons he spent so regally sitting in our yard, basking in the sun and watching over his home and domain.He was a good boy. Such a good boy. We will miss him so much.